Childhood Friend
by Starlight-Illusion
Summary: She was his childhood friend. He hated the title for two reasons. A manga-based Ed/Win fanficton


**Title: Childhood Friends**

**Info: EdxWin. Rated for profanity and PG-13 intimacy**

**Warning: This is based off of the most recent manga chapter, so do not read if you have not gotten to chapter 95 yet and do not want spoilers or confusion.**

**Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, not me. **

"Fuck…" was the single syllable uttered from a soft, but irritated voice. It belonged to a golden-haired young man by the name of Edward Elric. His bespectacled and politely sympathetic father stood over him, and just delivered the news that he knew nothing about automail, making it completely hopeless to repair his leg without traveling to

Risembool.

"Edward," he muttered in a half-heartedly chiding tone. He was too grateful for his son's recent forgiveness to scold him for something as petty as obscenities.

After trying to halt Roy Mustang's sadistic vendetta against Envy, he had been experiencing a curious malfunction in his left leg—whenever he attempted to bend the leg, straining from the internal components could be heard, and his leg would begin to violently tremor if he persisted in his attempt to walk normally. The underlying problem was that he could not simply waltz into town and ask any mechanic to fix it. He had to have Winry.

Winry knew his automail best; she had created it especially for his trip to the Northern tundra of Briggs. There was yet another complication with having to have his automail repaired, however—Winry was forced to move back to Risembool from her successful job in Rush Valley to go into hiding from the zealously vicious Zolf Kinblee. She had done nothing wrong, of course. He took it upon himself to place all of the blame on his own actions. She was a hostage held against him by the fuhrer, after all.

Bradley knew how to pick an effective hostage.

Heaving himself up from the spindly chair he'd been placed in to go under his father's examination, he stumped over to his suitcase. Struggling to sit once more with the uncooperative knee joint refusing to bend for him, he rummaged in his bags. "Go get the train tickets," he grumbled caustically to his father, resignation making the command wither. Damn! He could not leave now. They were in hiding, and everyone around them was in danger of being killed or involved in a deadly confrontation…but there was no way to stop the promised day without a properly opposable leg.

But there was more. He was covered in injuries. They were not from the confrontation with Roy, but accumulating over the past month. He didn't want Winry to see the bandages and bruises. He'd promised to keep her informed, and that'd mean he'd be forced to explain what happened when she asked. That also meant that she would be upset, and maybe even cry…Then his promise would be void.

"I take it we're leaving," Hohenheim concluded with an amused half-smile. The older man not only bore a physical resemblance to the young man, but also seemed to understand his temperament to a thorough extent, as well.

Snapped from the internal argument, Edward nodded, exhaling a puff of air from his nose in frustration. It had only been a month since he'd left, Winry promising him an apple pie when he returned for good. He'd hoped that next time he came home, it would have been the last time; if he kept going back, surely Bradley's men would find her hiding place. Thankfully she hadn't blabbed to the fuhrer that they'd lived in Risembool as kids…She'd already given him enough accidental advantages by informing him of her place of residence in Rush Valley and explaining their close childhood friendship.

Childhood friendship—he cringed at the word no matter who said it. He had two problems with that over-used description of his relationship to Winry: One, it implied that they were only friends as children, and were no longer amiable towards one another. Two being that "childhood friendship" seemed to minimize their partnership to having just played together as kids. He looked out for himself and for her…She worried about him and his brother. He couldn't stand it to be reminded that he kept her worried that he had been hurt, hadn't been eating enough, or taking care of himself as he should.

At least she knew Alphonse was safe in Lior…He hadn't even known where he and Hohenheim were headed when he left her and Pinako last, and he couldn't tell her, either. He had to keep himself from becoming even more of a liability to her. She was already risking her life by claiming him and Alphonse as her friends.

He knew he'd not been a good friend over the years. He had only showed up for repairs, and even then they constantly bickered. He'd had so much opportunity a few years ago to be kind to her, to call and write letters and see how she was doing as well. He wanted very badly to call in advance, even to let her know they were coming. Seeing as they were in a tent in the middle of the woods, there was no such chance. All of those years of neglect, and when he wanted most to have a form of contact with her, it was stripped of him.

While stewing in his frustration—and now guilt—noticed that his father had already left. He took this opportunity to hastily disguise himself; if he was to be recognized on the train or in Risembool, he would be putting everyone close to him in jeopardy. His father's bowler hat was crammed onto his head, his tidy braid tucked away from sight. He then removed his trademark red coat with clumsy, rushed hands, and replaced his black shirts for a white button down shirt he'd been issued by Central when he'd come out of Gluttony's stomach, and then dragged to Central to be informed by Fuhrer Bradley that he had assumed Winry as a hostage against him. He pulled on white gloves to hide his automail, and placed his pocket watch in his suitcase.

After an explanation to Greed and the chimeras as to where they were going, Edward packed up his and his father's belongings and began his unsteady, hobbling journey to meet him at the station two miles in to the nearest town. "Goddamned, motherfucking, piece of shit leg!" he let loose in an outburst, fuming as he fell for a fourth time. He placed a well-aimed kick at a nearby rock with his left foot. Damn the leg., making him have to go halfway across Amestris so he could walk properly again. Making him go back to a mechanic who was likely worrying over him....

Maybe going back wouldn't be so bad...Maybe he could stop her from worrying this one time.

**Well, there you have the first chapter! Please leave me some constructive criticism in your reviews!**


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